Outfoxed

Leicester - Tottenham is a special fixture. There is some form of a rivalry there. One that started in 2016, with Tottenham's ill-fated title chase and Leicester's infamous title win. Since then, the fixture has produced an inordinate number of goals (62). No doubt you'll remember Kane's haul in the 6-1, Son's cameo in the 6-2, the 5-4 at Wembley, Bale's 4-2 and Bergwijn's miracle last year. Its a match of goals, drama, error and entertainment. 25 minutes into this one and it was clear today would be no different.

Much of the pre-match talk concerned Pedro Porro's Tottenham debut. But something that went under the radar was the man selected to play beside him, the replacement for our suspended world champion; Japhet Tanganga - a player dreadfully dry of minutes this season. Going from Royal and Romero last week against Man City, to Porro and Tanganga today, was a downgrade of the utmost severety. Porro will need time to adjust to this league, this club, this manager, for him we can be patient. Tanganga too needs minutes, but ahead of Romero, he won't get them. In fairness, he should not get them before Davinson Sanchez either - for all his faults, he was the man I expected to step in.

And with our right flank lacking the know-how to cope with Leicester's relentless assault, the picture across the left did not look much better. Perisic is an attacker turned defender, who lingered too hungrily higher up the pitch. This would not have been such an issue if his quality in the final third had been better. It was atrocious. His crosses were a mix of a simple ball overcooked, or an ambitious attempt sent hopelessly wayward. He had a sight at goal and struck it with the conviction of a young deer caught in the headlights of an approaching 8-wheeler. He has made his impact this season. He is Tottenham's top assister so far (9), but today was not one of his good days.

He played his part in the goal, swinging two wonderful corners into a chaotic Leicester box, which as has been the Spurs way recently, eventually bore more fruit. Spurs found the opener, in truth, through opposite defender Kristiansen, who only moments earlier had made the goal-line clearance of a lifetime, scuffed a simple block straight into the legs of Rodrigo Bentancur, who scored somewhat against his knowing. 15 minutes in, Spurs had taken an uncommon early lead.

But with the right-flank in permanent collapse and with Dier and Perisic pushed aggressively up the pitch, Davies was at times the only player back to defend, and the lead would not last for long. Yet, the Welshman erred as much as any other, sending naive passes of titanic aspirations into a pressing Leicester midfield. Over the 90, he invited more pressure than he eased and our best defender was more often than not the referee's over-enthusiastic whistle.

The equalising goal was a thing of brilliance; a snapshot volley from outside the box by Nampalys Mendy, beating Forster at his front post. Two minutes later, Spurs were behind. Iheanacho receiving the ball with a fragmented, displaced Tottenham defence to oppose him. He found Maddison in acres of space and the Englishman could not miss. Forster again had nothing he could do to prevent it. Iheanacho bullied the back-line throughout the opening 45 and he made it 3 moments before the half-time whistle, holding off a spinning, floundering Eric Dier before slotting a cool finish into Forster's right-hand corner.

The second-half might just have been worse. Tottenham could conjure nothing, on the ball nor off it. We were constantly chasing the ball, chasing the game and chasing shadows. Our best, and only good player, Bentancur found himself punished for his effort, getting caught in a crunching challenge high up the pitch and needing to be removed on the hour-mark. Last weekend Spurs boasted a rare clean bill of health. Not 6 days later and we're down our first choice goalkeeper and two midfielders - our captain and our best central player.

Leicester had the ball in the net again through Harvey Barnes on the 70 minute mark. Porro in no-man's land. It was fully deserved and well-earned, were it not for the traditional and unwelcome intervention from VAR. The lines drawn on the screen were identical to those drawn for Bentancur's opener an hour earlier. Ours was a goal, theirs was not; their conclusions is the only difference I can find between the two incidents. This highlights a problem in the game - VAR should be trying to fix problems, not searching for them. Just give the goal. Further scrutiny is seldom desired. The measurements VAR performs are microscopic and the element of human error goes unchecked and is woven into every decision that is made.

Though Barnes had his goal chalked off, Tottenham were in a charitable mood, and let him have another go some 10 minutes later. It played out like a reverse-angle replay of their third. Dier defended with his invisible force-field, rather than his body and Barnes placed another fine effort into Forster's corner. A goalkeeper who concedes four goals has never had the game they intended, and though he could react faster for the fourth, his vision was arguably obscured by the twisting, thrashing Dier in front of him. Goals conceded aside, I long to behold a goalkeeper who can kick. It ended as 4. It could have been 5. It should have been 6.

The midfield, the same one that locked-down City's superstars last week, were annihilated today. Hojbjerg and co had more control over the weather than they did the ball in the middle of the pitch. Kane, Son and Kulusevski were utterly uninvolved and suffocated the whole game. Subs came on to no effect, brought in far too late and with too much damage on the board. Porro suffered the worst debut of any player currently in the squad and the defence as a whole had the look of the demoralised crew on-board a sinking ship. It is the 15th best defence in the Premier League and is an up-turned fire-hydrant of leaking goals.

But I wouldn't get too downcast over it. Our Premier League ambitions realistically ended a month ago. This defeat is nothing new. We are sublime one week, substandard the next. A cup requires dashes of brilliance. It was only the league; an aspiration dashed long before. Next up is the Champions League. A fresh competition, a fresh feeling. It will likely be a midfield pairing of Skipp and Sarr in the round of 16. It will either make of break them, but not our season. Regardless, AC Milan are beatable. We're still in the FA Cup. So long as we're alive in those competitions, the season stands strong. If those should go sour, roll on the transfer window and roll on 2023/24.